The door
by MrSadTeddyBear
Summary: A door can be far more then that. It can be a new beginning. All you have to do is knock.


For many, the aspects of their lives they can't change become a fixture in their day to day. Just another part of this great big world going around in a circle. As simple and reliable as the sun will be out in the morning and the night will come after. As sure as one could be that if they jumped into the air, they would fall back to the ground. One comes to terms with this part of their world, or simply let their world fall apart.

Now, that possibly bleak outlook is something many of us face in our lives. But to a few. A very small few, it does not define who they are or how their word goes round. Some get fed up with these things they've always been told they can't deal with or change. It becomes a mission of the very soul to overcome and persevere. A mountain never meant to be climbed, but destined to be conquered. A truly insurmountable task they will fight tooth and nail to accomplish. To some it's fighting a battle against the world, to others… it's knocking on a door.

She stands just a breath from the old-fashioned, chipped, rust on the handle door of an address she is refusing to remember how she came to have. Hand slumping back to her side for what feels to be the hundredth or so time in the few short minutes she's been staring at the door. Sharp, searching, practically panicked violet eyes go from the door to the small peeling address numbers on the frame. She's sure that it's right place and that the person she came to see is there. She can feel it, deep down in her soul.

Her breath catches somewhere above her heart as the memory sweeps over her again. A waking dream that she relived dozens of times over the years. Always left with pulse quickened, breath shallow, and knees shaking.

A fair. A ride. A happen meeting with an old rival. A small smile meeting with the faintest of smirking glance. Feelings in the bottom of her stomach that she has never felt before or since. A hand brushes her own. Apprehension. Fear. A new found longing. A ghost of a kiss that sends her world upside down and her mind crashing in on itself. All the memories of being told she could not, would not, and should not ever love crashing into her very soul.

Years of the memories flood her mind as she stares again at the door before her. Years of trying to climb the mountain built on a life time of doubt. Years of silently watching the world go by with this new piece missing that she was always told would never be there. Countless sleepless nights trying to find the will to take the first step to change this void in her life. Change it to …. something. The thought still took her breath from her like a thief in the night.

The fear. The fear of trying so hard to replace a known hurdle she was never meant to cross, with another so alien to her it may has well been from another planet. The fear of never being loved, replaced with the fear of TRYING to love. Trying to do something that has been denied to her her entire life. Yet it seemed like such a small thing, to just knock on a door. She would rather try to pull the very sun from the skies.

It starts to rain. A slow dreary mess of a rain that is more then a mist but not quite a drizzle. Enough to instantly soak you to your skin and deeper if you didn't find shelter soon. She just stand there. Not feeling a single drop or shiver from the weather around her. The world has fallen way to hardly discernable background static. No rain, no cars on the street, no dog barking in the gloomy neighborhood she currently stands in. Just her, and the mountain before her. She raises her hand once more and hovers it just inches from the door. Poised and ready to let her world come crashing down in around her in hopes of rebuilding one better.

Her hand draws back from the door, ready to swing in for the softest of raps against the old wood. Before it can either assail the door shattering her world as it is, or again retreat to the confines of her side, she pauses. All the turmoil in her soul becoming one singular thought –

I miss her.

That one night, all those years ago. The fleeting feelings shared between young adults in a passing moment that neither realized was happening. A connection found to late after the moment had passed. Years of maybes and "what ifs" about something she was always forced to believe she couldn't change. No more. A nearly feral snarl rolls through her mind as she sheds all the misgivings and fears from years of useless worry. She takes the first large step into climbing her mountain.

knock*knock*

Barely realizing that she had actually done the thing she wanted to do more than anything at that moment, violet eyes nearly sprang from their sockets as the door flung open before her. Clever, shifting, catlike pink irises quickly found hers and held the stare for but a moment. The sides of those very eyes pulling upwards, as smile graces a face the violet eyed girl as longed to see for so very long.

"Raven, to what do I owe the pleasur…? The end of the pink-horn-haired girl's sentence is cut off by the hard pull in a soul shifting embrace she too has longed for. The world for both girls felt as perfect as it could be, for the first time in their lives.

 ** _The End_**

I do so apologize to any of you that stumbled onto this short mess of a thing. I am not now, or ever have I been a writer. A teller of stories certainly, but it seems so much more difficult to put words to page for some reason. If you did, for some masochistic reason , read this and enjoy it. Thank you. If you didn't enjoy yourself, again, my apologies but thank you none the less. Best wishes and good luck, Sad.


End file.
